14 Days to say 'I Love You'
by Gecko Osco
Summary: Day 7 for the USUK Valentine's Week challenge: Valentines Day, on livejournal! Alfred's not the biggest fan of Valentine's day...but his secret admirer has 14 days to change that. How much can a bunch of flowers say?


Title: 14 Day to say 'I Love You...'

Genre: humor/romance, slight angst (just a little)  
Pairing: USUK  
Word Count: 5337  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: human names and nation names used.  
Summary: Day 7 for the USUK Valentine's Week challenge: Valentines Day!: Alfred's not the biggest fan of Valentine's day...but his secret admirer has 14 days to change that. How much can a bunch of flowers say?  
Note: I researched each and every one of these flower meanings! I hope you all enjoy and happy Valentine's Day! Remember, reviews are love!

**

_**14 days to say 'I Love You…'**_

Alfred was surrounded by pink, red, and hearts as he pushed his cart through the aisles of Walmart and he was not thrilled about it. Valentine's Day…probably Alfred's least favorite holiday and here it was, throwing up all around him as January came to a close and February began. Oh, it wasn't as if he hated the holiday (how could he, the Hero, hate any holiday?) it just…it was kind of stupid in his opinion. I mean, you didn't get it off from work, so a whole bunch of other holidays were better than it by default, and it wasn't like it was a super important day or anything. It was just a dumb holiday…though perhaps part of his reasoning had to with the fact that he, the most awesome hero around, didn't have a valentine…but not like he'd admit that or anything. Or admit that if he could have his valentine, he knew who he'd pick and there was a fat chance of that happening anyway…he uncharacteristically scowled at a large, fluffy pink card and continued past the section to hygiene products.

He sighed and picked up the last of the travel necessities he would need for the next few weeks, toothpaste, body wash, shampoo and so on. He paid for his items and made his way through the insane amount of snow back to his house, knowing that as much he may hate it, he needed to finish packing before 9am tomorrow if he was going to make his flight. He didn't know whose bright idea it was to schedule a whole week of conferences at the beginning of February it was, but he was going to point out how stupid it was when he got there!

Seriously, a whole _week_ of listening to Germany and India argue about greenhouse emissions and having to fend of China's creepy questions about when Alfred was going to pay him back…and then the Olympics, where all the nations participating had to show up for at least the first week! Did no one think this through? Alfred knew he wasn't exactly the best person to criticize on that point but honestly, what had the world nations been thinking? Alfred pouted and packed his suitcase…lucky Matt, he didn't have to go because of all the Olympic prep going on. If he thought he could get Matt to agree, he'd ask that they switch places, but Matt had been overcome with a serious case of patriotism as most nations were actually remembering his name for once, and he wouldn't agree.

Alfred looked outside his snow covered window as he dragged down his many suitcases and carry-ons, frowning at how unseasonably cold it was in DC, frowning because Valentine's days was in a little over two weeks, frowning because the week long conferences were in London of all places, frowning because Arthur was Arthur and Alfred was still in love with the stupid old man and couldn't change it. Oh well, better just get these next few weeks over with, it's what a hero would do. Saddle up and pony on…

**

_February 1: First Emotions of Love, Innocence_

The first day of February began normally enough. Alfred woke up late and made no effort to rush and get to the first of the conferences on time, grabbing some fast food on his way to the Parliament buildings, finding it somewhat cruel it wasn't nearly as cold in Arthur's capitol as it was in Alfred's right now. There was something inherently wrong with that…DC was supposed to be all about sunshine even in the winter, just like the USA, not drearier than soggy London. He pushed open the wide doors and made his way up to the conference rooms, walking in to all the nations already seated and some engaging in small chat. He grinned and gave a thumbs up, ignoring some of the eye-rolls he got for his lateness, heading over to his customary seat at the head of the oval table for being the only Superpower. He glanced over at Arthur, expecting some sort of diatribe for his tardiness, but the small nation was studiously ignoring Alfred, jotting some sort of notes into his folders; Alfred frowned, he didn't like being ignored by the island nation.

He set his stuff down on the table and made to sit down when he noticed them. He quirked his eyebrows in confusion and picked up the flowers in his seat, arranged beautifully. He studied them for a moment, engrossed and touching the white daisys and spray of fragrant, purple flowers that Alfred didn't know, before his mind reminded him there were about fifty other nations gathered and staring at him. He smiled sheepishly and waved the flowers around the table.

"Someone drop these?"

France smiled in a truly amused manner and leaned forward, his eyes twinkling in mirth. "Oh but they were 'ere before we arrived, Amerique! They must be for you."

Finland smiled shyly and glanced at Sweden for a moment before he spoke up. "Looks like you have a secret admirer, America! And that lilac is really nice."

"Sm'lls g'd." Sweden commented, giving Finland's hand a small squeeze, which prompted the smaller nation to blush shyly.

"For me? But, why?"

"For Valentine's of course!" Hungary exclaimed, her eyes all dreamy. "Oh, I wish someone would get me flowers, so romantic!" Austria and Prussia glared daggers at each other.

"They are truly beautiful, America-san," Japan said softly. He smiled at the stunned nation as the rest of the table began to chatter about the flowers, about what they would want for Valentines, some nations (i.e. Russia and Spain) trying to crowd closer to their own 'beloveds'; Lithuania looked distinctly ill while Romano was to distracted trying to pry Italy off a very flustered Germany. "Do you know what they mean?"

"What they mean…?" America shot a confused look over at Japan, the small nation shooting a glance to the side for a moment before he smiled back at Alfred.

"Yes…it's called floriography and I believe it is an, ah, a European tradition; the language of flowers. The daisy represents innocence while the purple lilac is supposed to speak of the beginnings of love, that feeling of first falling in love with someone."

"Oh…really?" Alfred looked back at the flowers in his hand, a warm feeling beginning to spread through his veins. He looked around the table, most people getting severely off topic now, but Alfred's gaze went toward one person, a grumpy looking Arthur who had finally looked up from his folders and was glaring around the table, a disapproving look on his face. He glanced once at Alfred before he rolled his greener-than green eyes that reminded Alfred of the green of grassy hills or how beautiful they'd look if they were glazed over in arousal…

"If you're all quite done with your squabbling, I do believe we have a conference we need to be getting to!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, sitting most people back in their seats, some looking sheepish while most just looked annoyed.

Alfred looked at the flowers once more before he began…still, he couldn't help but look back at the flowers every few minutes, wondering who had given them and wishing who had.

**

_February 2__nd__: Pain and Grief_

Alfred was just as late for the second day of conferences, but this time for different reasons. He had spent most of the night going over in his head who could have given him the flowers (and as much as he wanted to think is was Arthur, France informed him that Arthur had spent most of the day with him, though it wasn't by the Briton's choice…something about international cooperation or something) and couldn't have left the flowers. He thought about it so much that he had ended up staying up wondering until it was almost daytime and then had very strange dreams, mostly which ended with Arthur staring at him with a smile on his face, a smile for Alfred, that he hadn't seen in years. Understandably, he'd woken up late and in a grumpy mood.

He hurried into the conference room, but there was no chatter this time. Instead, fifty heads were focusing on him, Alfred, America, and he wasn't sure why (as his being late was a common occurrence and hardly drew anyone's attention anymore…besides Arthur's of course) until he spotted another flower in his chair. He bit his lip and turned quickly away from the staring faces under the pretense of setting his folders and briefcase down, trying to will away the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck and face.

"Someone is certainly trying to get your attention, aru?" South Korea was bouncing in his seat in excitement while China looked on from beside the twitchy nation with a small smile of his own at the flustered look on Alfred's face.

"Uh, I guess," America answered. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he should be feeling. A part of him was kind of excited and happy to see another flower in his seat while the other part was unsure still as to why and who was giving the flowers. "Let's just get started, yeah? Global warming is a fun topic, let's start there."

The rest of the meeting went as normal, but Alfred did lean over to Japan while Germany, India, and China started to argue about greenhouse emissions (as expected) an uncertain look on his face. The flower was gold and its petals a bunch of ruffles around the center. A marigold…he waved at the flower to Japan, asking silently what this flower meant; Japan, again, looked to the side for a moment before he answered. Alfred glanced to where Japan looked, seeing nothing but Francis and Arthur arguing with Germany now, drawing nothing but dirty looks from the other Asian nations. Uh, nothing new there.

"It means pain, American-san. Pain and grief."

Alfred settled back and stared at the flower in confusion. Pain and grief? The flowers from yesterday had been about falling in love…why the sudden reversal? The question plagued him for the rest of the meeting, and as engrossed as he was, he didn't notice the green eyes darting up, nervously, every so often to watch him studying the marigold.

**

_February 3__rd__: Hopelessness and Regret_

The next morning and third day of the conferences, Alfred was not late.

Unfortunately, everyone else was early and staring at his chair in rapt attention. There, laying across his chair were strips of a dark magenta flowers that reminded Alfred of a busy fox tail, interwoven with a dark-green evergreen plant with blooming yellow flowers. Okay, now it was starting to get a bit unsettling (not scary because dammit he was a hero and they didn't get scared over flowers!) but he laughed and tried to pass it off as a joke.

"Ok guys, very funny! I think the jokes getting a bit old now though."

"It is certainly not a joke, Amerique!" France was practically swooning as he said the words, his true romantic nature coming to the forefront and making him look more whimsical than normal. "We also showed up earlier in an effort to see who had left these but they were already in place!"

"And I looked these up already, the magenta flowers are Love Lies Bleeding and the yellow ones are Rue." Spain had whipped out a book on the classification of flowers, showing everyone gathered a picture of the flowers draping Alfred's chair.

Alfred looked around, a bit lost but trying to not let it show, before he focused on Japan, waiting for what these flowers meant. "Hopelessness and regret, America-san."

Alfred gathered the flowers with him as he left that evening, placing them in the small vase he had already put the marigold, daisy and purple lilac in and wondered, for the umpteenth time, who was sending these. And, most importantly, why.

**

_February 4__th__: Anger_

Alfred woke up early and arrived at the conference early, but was still greeted by a ring of nations, staring in anticipation at his arrival before looking towards his chair. Alfred glared at some of them hotly, mostly France because he looked far to pleased with himself and Alfred knew he didn't know who was sending these flowers. With France were both Italy brothers, Taiwan, Hungary, Spain, and Japan and more nations were filing in every second, surprised that both Alfred had arrived before them and at the two lovely, blue flowers waiting against the tall nation's chair. Alfred picked them up and studied them, they looked kind of like an orchid in the way the petals opened around the center but they opened downwards and he had never seen a blue orchid before. He looked up as Spain whipped out the flower book and flipped through the pages furiously.

However, before Spain could find the page he wanted, Arthur walked in, took one look at the crowd and the flowers in Alfred's hand and headed directly for his usual seat. "They are Lobelias and they mean anger; now that's out of the way, can we please get on with these daft conferences?"

Alfred brought these flowers home as well, but not feeling as happy as he had the first day. The flowers he'd received for the last few days were all worrisome to the young nation because they all implied that he had hurt whoever gave them something terrible…yet that person was still giving him the flowers and had given him the romantic one at first. Alfred gripped his hair tightly and stared at the mocking flowers all arranged in the vase next to his bed.

**

_February 5__th__: A Wound yet to Heal_

Alfred didn't even bother to show up early, and the security guard he asked to keep an eye on anyone who came into the building early hadn't seen anything either so that was a wash, but sure enough, there was a flower waiting for him on his chair. They were extremely fragrant, reminding Alfred of the apple blossoms that grew each spring and were bunched together at the end of a leafy and prickly stem…as if it had been picked from a garden and not from a flower shop. They were light pink and delicate looking, like little buttercups.

"That's Sweet briar or the Elgantine Rose!" Spain told the crowd.

"And it means...?" Denmark asked obnoxiously, pushing his face into Spain's book to try and get his answer quicker.

"It means a wound to heal." Japan nodded at Alfred, sad apologetic smile on his face before he took his seat. Alfred looked around and noticed that the seat next to France was empty…meaning Arthur wasn't there. Alfred was worried for all of two minutes when Arthur hurried in, his hair slightly messier than usual and a harried look on his face. He didn't look at Alfred as he took his seat.

**

_February 6__th__: Remembrance and Friendship_

"I'm telling you, Mattie, it's freaking weird! I've been getting these flowers every day at the conference and this morning, right outside my door, are these yellow roses and sprigs of what smells like rosemary! We don't even have conferences today and I'm leaving tomorrow for home and then I'm heading up there to Vancouver…not to mention that all these meanings are kinda depressing!" Alfred knew he was rambling and only made half sense, but he trusted his brother to pick up on what was important.

"Japan told me what the first few meant and you know that yellow roses mean friendship…and I think rosemary means something like remembering…"

"How do you even know that?!"

"Francis told me some flower meanings…it is a European tradition."

"Ok, but why all the effort? And why all the sad flower meanings?"

"Maybe whoever is sending you the flowers is trying to tell you something. Look, Al, I have to go. There's some kind of cranberry emergency with the Olympic rings…I'll talk to you later when you get here, all right?"

"Sure…"

Alfred glared at the new flowers but still placed them gently with all the others, his finger trailing the soft yellow petals before he turned off the lights.

**

_February 7__th__: Hope_

The small, delicate white flower was waiting for him on his kitchen table when he got back home, covered in snow from the freakish winter weather going on outside. Alfred picked up the flower, a drooping white blossom, and went upstairs and looked what it was up on the internet.

A snowdrop…and it meant hope.

**

_February 8__th__: Unrequited Love, Uncertainty_

Alfred woke up Monday morning, hardly refreshed but knowing he'd have to start packing soon again if he was going to make it to Matt's place in time. He yawned and got up slowly, stretching his arms over his head, pausing to yell up to Tony that he was going to make breakfast. Alfred's went to the snowdrop on his nightstand; he grabbed it on his way down, placing it in a small glass of water on the counter, wishing he had been able to bring the flowers he had received in London, but the first had began to die and…and they made Alfred feel odd, looking at flowers that meant something so personal to the sender, meant to represent what Alfred had made them feel.

His flight was later that night, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to stop by his boss's office sometime if his could, contemplating the best way to get there when he noticed the flowers on his door knob to his front door…on the inside. He swallowed and cautiously removed them, daffodils he knew, wondering with a fair bit of worry just how these flowers were placed in his house while he had been sleeping right upstairs. His computer was still on so he looked up the meaning, frowning as unrequited love reflected back at him. Was this some kind of joke?

Alfred was never one for being serious, ask anyone, but this created a frown in between his blue eyes and on his mouth…he caused someone else unrequited love? _Him_? Alfred F. Jones, who had been in love with the crankiest and least approachable nation for the past sixty odd years? He sighed and removed Texas from his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly. This was driving him crazy. He picked up the daffodils, searched his house for a larger vase, and filled it with water. He placed the small snowdrop in the larger vase as well and stared at how the little white flower stood out amidst all the yellow, as small as it was.

Maybe his admirer was trying to tell him something after all.

**

_February 9__th__: Desire, Passion_

"—I left Tony to water them, but I'm telling you Mattie, it's freaking weird! The daffodils were waiting on the _inside_ of my front door! How creepy is that?"

"I actually think it's somewhat romantic. Whoever is sending you these flowers is certainly going through a lot of work."

"Yeah, you try getting eight bunches of flowers for eight days in a row without any clue who they're from and we'll see how you feel about it then!"

"No idea? Are you sure…it's not like many nations would know enough about flowers to send you an entire story that encompassed all **he** felt for you." Alfred ignored the look on Matthew's face, the look that told him he should know and he was a fool if he didn't.

"Story? I guess that's what it is…still, I just wish I knew who it was and why."

Matthew rolled his eyes and dropped Alfred's bags in the living room and unraveled his scarf from his neck. "The why should be obvious, Al."

Alfred, however, wasn't listening to Matthew anymore because there, on Matthew's kitchen table, in _Vancouver, _was a single vase with a single rose inside, fragrant and a deep coral color; and attached to the stem was a single note addressed to Alfred. The tall nation hurried over and unwrapped the note, turning it over to small note scrawled on the back in neat, precise handwriting.

_Tropicana Rose, one of the loveliest of all. A show of all the desire and passion I hold for you._

Alfred turned around, note and flower vase in hand as Matthew walked in, a confused look on his face. "I locked the door on my way out."

"Yeah, what did I tell you, freaky."

Matthew smiled and gave Alfred a gentle pat on his shoulder. He'd figure it out eventually.

**

_February 10__th__: Impatience_

A few of the other nations had arrived by the next day, mostly the Nordic nations and a few of the Eastern European, all curious if Alfred had continued to receive the flowers.

He had pointedly ignored this question and tried to put out the flowers from that morning, a small bouquet of light purple flowers with another note for him, naming them Balsamines and letting him know their meaning.

Impatience.

**

_February 11__th__:_

"Late per usual, America." Arthur had a small glare on his face, but it was hard to see completely as bundled as he was. Matthew had asked that Alfred meet up with Arthur while he picked up France, who obviously would not arrive together due to Arthur's insistence.

"Sorry, had a few, ah, a few issues this morning but jeez old man, I'm not that late. What would you have done with that five minutes anyway?"

Arthur arched his large eyebrow at Alfred in a pointed way. "I suppose I'd be five minutes closer to the whole reason I am here now."

Alfred shrugged and gave Arthur a smile, draping and arm around the slim but compact shoulders, not noticing the blush dust the Briton's fair face, also per usual. He walked them out to his car and drove them to the hotel most of the nations were staying at. Arthur thanked him curtly and started to exit the car, hesitating for one moment before he turned back and stared at Alfred with a look the younger nation had never seen on the elder's face. A shy uncertainty.

"Ah, are you still receiving those flowers then?"

Alfred sat back and sighed heavily. "Yes…it's weird how they keep getting delivered to where I am. I woke up this morning in Mattie's guest room and there it was, a really deep burgundy rose. It's getting really frustrating."

"Do you know what it means?"

"The flower, no. This one didn't come with a note…"

"It means a—a great beauty." Alfred looked up sharply into Arthur's face, hearing a slight waver in his voice. Arthur looked away and made his way out of the car with his small bag.

"Hey! How do you know all these meanings too?" Alfred shouted through the open window. Arthur turned around a fraction, giving a brief, mirthless smirk that made Alfred's heart clench something terrible.

"I know them because it was my people who came up with the tradition."

Alfred was left to stare after Arthur until the cars behind him honked and yelled for him to move, his mind processing Arthur's confession and his heart beating faster in his chest as everything, no matter how unlikely, began to come together. His dreams that night were filled with flowers and green eyes.

**

_February 12__th__: Promise_

It was the Opening Ceremonies and Alfred felt a swell of pride within his chest for the beautiful show his brother put on, showcasing his country's vast history, a history that he, admittedly, tended to forget from time to time. Even with the odd moment near the end of ceremony with the technical difficulty, it was still wonderful and one look at Matthew's proud face couldn't have made him happier. He had hugged his brother close after the torches were lit, shifting him off the France, who looked just as proud.

When he arrived back to Matthew's house later that night, after meeting up with the Vice president and his wife, what he was first met with was a fresh, clean, and wonderful smell. He followed his nose into the kitchen where, besides the two roses and the balsamines, was a flowering branch, the pink blossoms producing an almost heavenly smell that brought a smile to Alfred's face. And this one had another note addressed to him.

_A blossoming almond branch, a show of my promise to always love you, even when perhaps I shouldn't._

Alfred carried the branch up with him to bed.

**

_February 13__th__: Declaration of Love_

There was a red tulip waiting for him that morning. Alfred didn't need to have the meaning written down, he already knew it.

**

_February 14__th__: True love and I love…_

Alfred hadn't been able to find him yesterday, but today, today he wasn't going to get away from him. Today was Valentine's Day; a holiday that, up until now, Alfred had never really cared for, never saw a point in, and had generally looked down upon. Now though, now he felt different; he felt stronger, better, more than he'd been two weeks ago. The story came to him the night he had received the almond branch, connected in his mind and his heart, reminded him of his own, the one he had kept within him too himself until now. Now, now he knew it was shared, and he had never felt better.

Alfred weaved through the many people bustling around the Olympic areas, giving nothing but cursory glances or nods to nations who called out to him. They weren't who he needed to find; he needed to find a beautiful man who had been as equally hurt as he had hurt Alfred, a man who was too cynical for Alfred to believe he had gone through so much effort all to tell him three simple words that are never actually simple. A man with green eyes and bushy eyebrows that just make him look even more handsome, especially when they were furrowed at Alfred, telling him that he will always care about him, even when he's an idiot or makes mistakes.

He walked out of the Olympic area and into some of the surrounding park areas, for once not minding how cold it was. He didn't know what was guiding him exactly, but he knew deep down that it was leading him right…and sure enough, sitting beside a snow-covered lamp was Arthur, holding a single red flower in his hand with a splash of baby's breath surrounding the bloom.

Arthur looked up as Alfred approached and stood, his face showing every nervousness, every hope, and every vulnerable part of him the younger nation evoked within him, his hands holding the flowers shaking a bit in time with his quick, shallow puffs of breath that formed clouds in the morning air. He looked as if he wanted to say something, even an insult (probably especially an insult Alfred, thought fondly) but nothing could come out. But that was all right because Alfred already knew everything he needed to know.

So, in what was probably sixty years over due, if not longer, Alfred cupped Arthur's jaw and kissed him softly, smiling slightly as he heard a choked sound come from the shorter nation that was a cross between a sigh and a sob of relief. He wrapped his arms around Arthur, his hands splayed across the slim back, opening his mouth slightly as Arthur's hands, still holding his damnable (freaking awesome) flowers wrapped around his neck and tugged at his hair, tongue darting out to meet Arthur's. The morning snow fell and caught in their hair and gloves.

Alfred pulled away slowly, keeping his lips pressed against Arthur's forehead, never feeling as light or free as he did now, finally connected with the only nation, person, being who had ever really held his heart. He laughed in a breathless way and looked down, his own eyes a little clouded over with moisture that was probably just from the cold, but it was in Arthur's eyes too so it was all right.

"You're an awesome valentine, do you know that?"

Arthur smiled, really smiled, even if it was a bit shaky and new, and it was the one of the most kick ass things Alfred had ever seen. "Well, I should be, I did make this holiday what it is today after all*."

"Yeah…do you know that I love you?"

Arthur didn't answer, but he did look down and brought his arms back around front, holding out the flowers he had brought with him. "Baby's breath, for true love, and a red chrysthanthum…that one means 'I love…' I suppose you can work out the rest of the sentence for yourself."

Alfred grinned and took the flowers, tucking them into his jacket before he grabbed Arthur's hands and bringing him close again, tucking their clasped hands under Arthur's chin. "It'd still be pretty nice to hear it."

Arthur stared up at him for a moment before he leaned up on hi tiptoes, placing warm lips to Alfred's ear and exhaling softly in a way that made Alfred feel like jello and whispered softly. "I love you, Alfred F Jones, with all of my soul."

Alfred wrapped him close and chuckled into Arthur's shoulder. "You know, I'd hoped it was you, giving me all those flowers. Not sure how you did it but…"

"The fairies helped with the delivering, of course, " Arthur murmured, a small frown forming as he lowered back onto the soles of his feet and stared up at Alfred with a somewhat disgruntled expression. "Not that you'd believe me, but it hardly matters. I'll just pass along your thanks so they won't seek some sort of horrible retribution or mmph—"

Alfred shut Arthur up by pressing another kiss to the slightly chapped lips, his eyes twinkling at Arthur until the older man rolled his eyes and slid them shut, pulling the taller nation close and tilting his head to the side to deepen their connection. And for that moment of peace, for that small moment where all that existed in the world was Alfred and Arthur and the knowledge that this man who he had so desperately needed him ended up needing him right back just as desperately, Alfred thought that maybe, just maybe, this whole Valentines things wasn't that bad of an idea.

Arthur's grip tightened around him as the snow continued to frame them in the soft morning light and Alfred decided no, not too bad at all.

**

Above the two (finally together) lovers, three fairies hovered, giggling and celebrating in the success of their plan. Dear Arthur had been too unsure to start it, but he had finished it and that was what mattered in the end. They watched for only a little longer before they flew off in clouds of colored dust, their part over.

Now it was up to them, but they had a good feeling about these two. They were meant for each other after all.

_Finis._

**

Notes: Paper Valentines being so popular in England in the early 1800s, Valentines began to be assembled in factories. Fancy Valentines were made with real lace and ribbons, with paper lace introduced in the mid 1800's. In the UK, just under half the population spend money on their Valentines and around 1.3 billion pounds is spent yearly on cards, flowers, chocolates and other gifts, with an estimated 25 million cards being sent.

1.) The exchange of homemade Valentines was popularized in Great Britain from the mid 1800s to the early 1900s. In1847, Esther Howland developed a successful business in her Worcester, Massachusetts home with hand-made Valentine cards based on British models. The popularity of Valentine cards in 19th century America, where many Valentine cards are now general greeting cards rather than declarations of love, was a harbinger of the future commercialization of holidays in the United States.


End file.
